The Student Auction - Part 4 (Patreon)

All characters are 18+

I could have picked a million things about Mason Creevey that I loved. His cute dimples that creased in his cheeks when he smiled his gleaming smile. His strong hands that could crush, but were used so gently instead. His muscular thighs that I wanted to be trapped between. His bright eyes that sparkled no matter the light. His feet, his toes, his chest, nipples, arms and of course, the beautiful sight between his legs. I could have picked any one of them, I could have picked all of them, but what truly fascinated me about the young man was his complete indifference.

He sat on the sofa next to me with one of his muscular arms draped over the back, revealing a small brushing of soft black hair under his arm. In his other hand, one of my dad’s beers. One tree trunk like leg was crossed over the other so his bare foot rested on his knee, and hanging limply in the middle, his beautiful organ lay against the fabric.

For most high school students, this level of nakedness was confined to the privacy of their own bedroom. The confidence required to be so deeply unbothered by your own body was something that for most, came with age. This was dad-level of immodesty. This was the type of brazenness often found in the changing rooms of public swimming pools, where old men walked around with the pudgy peckers on show, chatting with strangers whilst keeping their towels, not around their waists, but over their shoulders, saying, but not saying look at my cock. I’m not ashamed.

Mason had that, and I was so deeply impressed that I found myself lusting over his attitude rather than just his nudity. I, on the other hand, had always been a painfully shy boy. Changing rooms were akin to torture chambers. Even trying on shoes in public was a nauseating ordeal, but Mason Creevey was so unperturbed that he had enough confidence for both of us.

I sat next to him, just as naked, but not nearly as exposed. I’d pulled my knees up to my chest, leaving my junk crushed between my thighs and my butt on show, should the handsome hunk care to look. Part of me wanted him to look. I wanted him to feel the same level of explosive arousal that I was feeling, but every time I stole a glance between the young man’s legs, his cock remained soft.

“I met that guy before” he said, pointing at a football player on the television, “he signed my jersey when I was thirteen”.

I smiled, but what I wanted to do was grab him by his perfect fucking face and press my lips to his and say will you just fuck me?!

On and on it went, and I remained in place with my insides churning and my heart heaving. Why was he so incredibly beautiful? It was a genuine question, and yet I had no answer. I’d known him for a few years, though as polite as he was, I knew that Mason had no idea who I was, probably until Cole bid on him last night. Despite that, he was good at making me feel good, because if one didn’t know the situation, it would be easy to assume that we were close.

“You don’t like football, do you, Matty?” He smiled, and dropped his arm down over my shoulder, making me tingle all over.

“I do” I lied, because I would have watched football until the day I died if it meant I could do it with Mason.

His beautiful deep eyes studied me and his lips curled further. “You’re cute when you lie” he said, and tussled my hair teasingly. “But why are you all tensed up?”

The question only made me more tense. Being naked was difficult enough, but being comfortable with it was another thing altogether. I wanted to say because we’re not all as beautiful, carefree, and confident as you, Mason. But I risked sounding crass, and there was no way I was going to ruin this moment.

I shrugged, and when I did, Mason dragged himself closer to me, kept his eyes on the game, and wrapped his perfect strong hands around my shoulders, either side of my neck.

“My coach showed me this” he told me, his beer can now between his legs, resembling his manhood in width. “I’ll loosen you up”.

I silently prayed that his words had a double meaning, and felt his thumbs push deep into my spine, sending chills through my body. The air escaped my lips, and my eyes rolled with pleasure.

“You’re so tight, Matty” he whispered, as I melted into his touch, “I have a thing for tight, cute boys like you”.

I couldn’t help it. I moaned softly, perhaps from the sensation of his fingers which continued to work and knead my flesh, or perhaps from the feelings that Mason Creevey could give me with just his words.

My head dropped back as he rolled his strong palms down my shoulder blades and squeezed me. I knew I was hard, and I didn’t even have to look. He placed one hand on my thigh and gently moved it away from my chest, and I let him because I was tired of being shy.

“There we go” he breathed, as I lay both my legs flat and allowed him to look at me in all my glory. He’d seen me already of course, but that had been in the moment. I hoped that another moment was about to happen.

“You’ve got such a nice body, Matty” he continued, slowly guiding me onto my back, so my head rested on his meaty thigh. I opened my eyes slightly, because I wanted to see him. One of his hands played with my hair, stroking it as my breathing quickened. His other hand ran across my smooth stomach, his fingertips slipping in the slickness of the pre-cum which I’d been drooling onto myself for the last hour.

“Someone’s horny” he joked, moving so slowly that I wasn’t sure he’d ever make it to his destination.

I had no idea how he was doing it. He hadn’t even touched my dick, yet my dick responded to the feeling of his fingers against my groin, by pulsing more fluid from my cumslit.

Mason slid his finger across the fresh pre, gathering it on his fingertip and bringing it to his lips. He smiled down at me, a handsome, naughty smile that forced me to thrust my hips into an invisible ass.

He closed his mouth around it, savouring the taste of me. I wanted, so very desperately, to grab myself and pump just for a moment, just for a second, but he noticed my desperation and chuckled softly.

“Am I teasing you, Matty?” He asked, narrowed eyes taking in my naked body.

I was falling in love. I wasn’t sure how I knew that exactly, but I did know it. Every word he spoke made me fall deeper into a pit of loving Mason Creevey. Every stroke of his finger, every smile that he flashed, every blink of his beautiful eyes. The way he said words in a whisper, then laughed lowly. The way he teased me, without teasing me. The way he said my name after every sentence. He made me breathless.

“Yes” I told him, because it was true. I’d never been more on the edge than I was in that moment, and Mason had the power to push me off. I just needed him to jump with me.

He picked up his can of beer and gulped from it as he returned his attention to the game and left me to deflate on his lap. Is this why women get so angry when their husbands pay more attention to sport than to them? I could understand it now. It was physically hurting me not to have his undivided attention.

“Damn, that was close” he said, not to me, but to nothing at all.

What did I need to do to captivate him? What could I offer of myself, that would make Mason Creevey fall to his knees and beg me to let him take me? Was my body not enough? Was the unwavering access to every single part of me, inside and out, head to toe, mouth to ass, not enough!?

“Kiss me”.

The words had formed and gone before I had a moment to consider them. I blushed like a nervous schoolboy who had spoken out of turn. I wanted to add more. I wanted to say haha, I’m just kidding! But I wasn’t kidding, and I didn’t add more, and Mason looked down at me once again, and I turned over and leaned forward, and we kissed.

It was a different kiss. Not like the last one, this one was soft and whispered love. It wasn’t sexual, despite our nudity, despite my arousal and despite the fact that I could taste my flavours from his tongue. He gifted me with a kiss so very beautiful that I wanted to cry. His rugged persona lay in stark contradiction to the tenderness that he was showing me now. His hand cupped the side of my face and our warm breath mixed as fireworks erupted deep within me.

Even when the crowd roared on the television, Mason maintained the magical embrace. I was more important than the game. I had his undivided attention. I was so painfully in love with this boy that I was sure I’d explode at any second.

“I think that’s the first thing you’ve told me to do since I got here” he laughed, as we looked into each other’s souls.

“If I told you to do it again, would you?”

His white teeth appeared, I watched him bite down on his plump bottom lip where our saliva had met, and he nodded.

“Then kiss me again”.

Again. As spectacular as the last, but stronger now. Deeper now. Faster now. His strength could be felt in every move that he made. He held my naked body in his hands with such power that he could have done with me what he pleased. He pulled me closer, our warm bodies collided, Mason sat up in the chair, I straddled his groin and his hands held my warm ass.

I jerked my hips on him. I wanted to feel him swell against me. I needed to know that I excited him the way he excited me. I had to feel him. I had to.

Our lips separated, but only so that we could both nuzzle into the creases of each other’s necks, sucking, licking, grazing teeth across warm, moist flesh. My body shook for him. The hairs stood on edge for him. My cock spilled for him. I sat back, my erection between us, and I felt him rise below.

“Fuck me” I said, breathlessly, “fuck me until you can’t fuck me anymore”.